


It's Just a Cold

by snoozingsnuffles



Series: 30 Day Multi-fandom Hurt/Comfort Challenge - November 2019 [3]
Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, Sickfic, Snusmumriken | Snufkin Whump, can be read as romantic or platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 11:01:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21298358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snoozingsnuffles/pseuds/snoozingsnuffles
Summary: Snufkin is ill. He tells Moomin it's nothing to worry about, but Moomin knows better.
Relationships: Mumintrollet | Moomintroll & Snusmumriken | Snufkin, Mumintrollet | Moomintroll/Snusmumriken | Snufkin
Series: 30 Day Multi-fandom Hurt/Comfort Challenge - November 2019 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1533236
Comments: 2
Kudos: 125





	It's Just a Cold

‘It’s just a cold’ was what Snufkin told Moomin that spring morning. It wasn’t exactly a lie – it had started that way. Not long after he had returned to Moominvalley, Snufkin had started to feel quite unwell, and it obviously showed. He had promptly waved away his friend’s concerns.

“I’ll be okay.” He assured Moomin. It was still early, and the dew shimmered in the grass like jewels. Despite the flowers blooming beneath the tress, there was a chill that still hung heavily in the air that refused to shift. “It’s just a cold, and I don’t want you to catch it.” He tried to give his friend a reassuring smile, but even he could tell it looked forced.

“If you’re sure.” Moomin’s brows were furrowed as he worried at the fur on the tip of his tail. “I don’t like the thought of you out here, ill and alone." 

“I’m not that ill.” Snufkin insisted. “And I’ve been through worse by myself before. I’ll be fine.” 

Now, however, he was quickly beginning to realise that he wasn’t going to be fine.

He lay in his tent, wrapped tightly in a blanket and stared up at the canopy, at the sun that shone weakly though the fabric.

He was exhausted, even though he had slept the morning away. He was too warm, yet he was violently shivering. Distantly, in the back of his mind, he thought about making a fire, even though it was still hours until sundown. But his limbs felt too heavy to move.

Snufkin sighed heavily and closed his eyes once again. His throat was sore, both from illness and lack of water, but he didn’t have the energy to do anything about it. He felt as if he might melt into the ground beneath him and let the earth reclaim him.

Distantly, he heard the rustle of overgrown grass being disturbed somewhere nearby, accompanied by footsteps. He cracked open an eye and stayed very still as they approached. He wouldn’t have the energy to stand up to an attacker.

“Snufkin?” A voice called out. Moomin. “Are you alright? I’ve brought soup.”

As much as he didn’t want to be seen in his current state, the promise of soup sounded too good to pass up. Summoning energy from somewhere deep inside him, Snufkin untangled his limbs from the confines of the blanket and rose unsteadily to his feet. With a trembling hand, he pushed the flap of the tent open and stuck his head out into the cold outside.

His friends slightly unsure smile greeted him, along with an onslaught of blinding sunlight.

As soon as Moomin laid eyes on the Mumrik’s face, his expression fell, his smile replaced with extreme concern. 

“Snufkin!” He gasped, his grip tightening on the bowl of steaming soup clutched between his paws. With a breath through his stuffed-up nose, Snufkin was able to identify it as potato and chive – one of Moominmamma’s best. Though he knew for a fact it was delicious, he felt his stomach clench uncomfortably. “You look terrible!”

“Thanks.” Snufkin answered sarcastically, though the word sounded hoarse and felt like it had shredded and clawed up his throat as it came out. He coughed weakly.

Before he could dodge it, Moomin’s paw had darted out and rested on the Mumrik’s sweaty forehead. Snufkin wanted to move away, but even the thought of moving was tiring.

“Be careful.” He croaked, “You might catch it.”

Moomin ignored his concerns. “You’re burning up!” He exclaimed. 

“It’s fine.” Snufkin insisted, though his voice betrayed him – he sounded the furthest thing from fine. “It’s just a cold.”

“It’s not.” Moomin shot back indignantly. “A cold is a few sniffles and a cough. You look really sick, Snufkin.”

Snufkin just glowered at his friend, too tired to argue with him. “Thank you for the soup.” He said with as much finality as he could muster. He extended a paw to take the bowl, but Moomin pulled it away.

“I’m not leaving you out here.” He said sternly. “The cold air will make you even worse! Come up to the house where we can take care of you.”

“I’m fine!” Snufkin exclaimed, fuelled by a suddn burst of irritation.

“You’re not.” Moomin said firmly, eyes narrowed. “Come up to the house.”

Snufkin sighed and hung his head. As much as he hated to admit it, Moominhouse sounded terribly appealing. No doubt he would be given a warm, comfortable bed and piping hot tea for as long as he needed it. But he hated being indoors. It was so constricting, and feeling enclosed was the worst sensation in the world – even worse than illness. But as he lifted his head to see Moomin’s sorrowful, begging eyes, something within him broke.

“Alright.” He relented. “Just for a couple of days.”

Moomin beamed, which caused Snufkin’s heart to skip a couple of beats. He was sure he was blushing. “Thank you, Snufkin.” He said. Moomin held out his free paw to help the Mumrik to his feet. Snufkin took it without comment. He hated to be so vulnerable and hated to lean on other people even more – quite literally in this case. But his legs felt like jelly underneath him, and he didn’t trust them to get him up the path to Moominhouse.

As soon as Moomin pushed the door open, Snufkin fell into the inviting warmth. A fire was roaring in the hearth and he itched to get even closer.

Moomin helped ease him down onto the plush sofa, and Snufkin sighed as his heavy body sank into the cushions. “Thank you.” He said, his voice weak and strained as Moomin’s paw left his arm. He couldn’t quite meet his eyes.

“It’s no problem at all.” The troll reassured with a kind smile. He handed Snufkin the still piping hot bowl of soup and Snufkin cradled it between his paws gratefully. “I’ll go and get Mamma. She’ll have a potion you can take that will have you feeling better in no time." 

Everything within the Mumrik wanted to argue, to insist that Moominmamma didn’t need to be bothered, but he was just too tired. He didn’t say anything as Moomin walked away, only lifted the bowl to his lips and took a short sip. It caused his stomach to flip, but the warmth was welcomed. He was suddenly cold and shivering, despite the flames warmth.

After he had eaten what he could manage, Snufkin set the bowl aside and curled into himself on the couch.

Moomin was back with Moominmamma in tow. As soon as she saw him, Moominmamma smiled in that comforting, reassuring way of hers that set Snufkin’s mind at ease almost immediately.

“Snufkin, my dear.” She greeted as she sat down next to him and laid a soft paw on his forehead, just like Moomin had done. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired.” Snufkin croaked. He tried not to lean into her touch too much. “And cold.”

“You have a fever.” She observed. She turned to her son, “Moomin, could you take a bowl of cold water and a cloth to the spare bedroom? And some extra blankets.”

“On it.” Moomin said. He had been bouncing nervously on his feet during the whole exchange, filled with worry for his friend, but primed and ready to help.

Once he had disappeared back into the kitchen, Moominmamma turned her gaze back to the sick mumrik. “Now, Snufkin, the spare bedroom is on the first landing. Do you think you can make it?”

“I can try.” He mumbled. He heaved himself back onto tired feet with Moominmamma by his side to steady him.

It took a little while to get up the stairs. With every step, the world spun in front of his eyes. But Moominmamma was at his side the entire time, endlessly patient.

As soon as they reached the bed, Snufkin collapsed into its warmth with a shuddering sigh. Moominmamma stood beside him, arranging the pillows so he was comfortable and tucking the blankets snugly around him.

There was a light knock on the door, then Moomin entered carrying a bowl of water in one hand and a cloth in the other, with extra blankets thrown over his shoulder.

“Thank you, dear.” Moominmamma said. She set the bowl on the bedside table and dunked the cloth into it, wrung it out and lay it across Snufkin’s forehead. He shivered as the coolness touched his skin. “Would you like you stay with him for a while? I’ll go and make him some medicine.”

Moomin nodded eagerly. “Of course.” He said.

Once Moominmamma left, Moomin pulled up a rickety old chair and sat down at the bedside. He immediately set to work, tucking the extra blankets around the Mumrik.

“You don’t have to stay.” Snufkin croaked.

“Nonsense” Moomin said in that determined, final tone of his. “I said I wouldn’t leave you alone like this, so I won’t." 

It probably hadn’t occurred to Moomin that Snufkin would actually quite like to be alone, but he held his tongue. Moomin was obviously worried about him, and sitting by his side and caring for him clearly gave the troll some comfort, and Snufkin didn’t want to deny him that.

Snufkin sighed, exhausted. He felt his eyelids growing heavier and heavier with each passing second.

“You can sleep if you want.” Moomin said.

Snufkin only hummed in response. He could feel unconsciousness pulling at him, forcing his eyes closed and dragging him under. “’Think I will.” His voice came out slightly slurred, and he would have been embarrassed if he wasn’t teetering on the edge of blissful sleep. “Thank you, Moomin.”

“It’s no problem at all.” Moomin’s soft voice was the last thing he heard before he slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

His head felt as if it were stuffed with cotton wool, and his body as if it were made out of pure lead. Snufkin groaned as he was prised from his sleep. Though his eyes stubbornly wanted to remain closed, he forced them open.

The room was dim, its shadows long. Across from him, the sun was slowly slipping behind the window pane, the sky bathed in a painting of glowing yellows and oranges. He had slept the day away.

“I’m sorry to wake you, my dear.” Moominmamma’s soft whisper greeted him as he pulled himself into consciousness. “But you need to take some medicine.”

Snufkin mumbled something inaudible. The sheets and blankets gripped him, and he didn’t think he could move an inch. Luckily, he didn’t have to. With incredible care, Moominmamma slipped a paw underneath his head and pressed a cup to his lips. The liquid inside tasted like sweet honey and something else Snufkin couldn’t quite place. It was nice, and he swallowed it eagerly.

“There.” Moominmamma smiled once he had drained the cup. She gently rested his head back on the pillow again, and he went eagerly. “Sleep some more, my dear. If you need anything, Moomin will be here.”

_Moomin_. Snufkin turned his head slowly to the side to see Moomin, sat where he had been when he had fallen asleep, but slumped in the straight-backed chair. He was snoring, so softly that Snufkin could hardly hear it, his head bowed and unmistakably asleep. Snufkin felt his heart grow warm at the sight.

“He refuses to leave you.” Moominmamma chuckled fondly. “I’ll leave you to rest. Sleep well.”

Snufkin smiled. With Moomin by his side, he would.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback welcomed!
> 
> Thank you for reading ❤️


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